


Aiding and Abetting III: Resolution of Claim

by Lucy Gillam (cereta)



Series: Hanging Work [20]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:01:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cereta/pseuds/Lucy%20Gillam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two tickets to a circus never used, a little boy forgotten, and a chance meeting. Of such things are legends made. Part XX of the Hanging Work Series.</p><p>Destiny struggles to reassert the pattern that was meant to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aiding and Abetting III: Resolution of Claim

Bruce hauled himself out from under the computer console and dusted off his work pants. It still felt strange to wear civilian clothes down here, something he had almost never done since the early days, when he was still setting everything up. But some things were simply easier to do without a cape.

"Almost looking like home again, isn't it?" Alfred asked from several feet away where he was packing leftover cables and other miscellany into carefully labeled plastic containers.

Bruce nodded, although in truth, the cave was nowhere near its pre-quake state. It had taken years to get to that point, and it would quite possibly take years to get back. The access tunnels were clear (he had very deliberately not asked how Alfred had managed that one, as he suspected it involved asking for help he himself would never have asked for), the generator and power lines functional, and soon the computer would be operational again. Those were the important things. They'd need to start working on the car again soon, of course.

"I did mean to mention, sir," Alfred continued, "that young Mister Grayson suggested some alternate training equipment. I have the catalogues upstairs if you'd like to see."

"No, just order what he wants. I'll add my choices later." He paused for a moment, then looked at Alfred, at his oldest friend and wisest advisor. "You always do that."

"Do what, sir?"

"Refer to him as "young Mr. Grayson." Are you… Do you disapprove? Of him, of…us?" He could not find the words for what he meant, but that was all right. Alfred would know.

Alfred looked up from the boxes, his expression thoughtful. "I cannot say it is what I envisioned for you, Master Bruce. Nor can I pretend that I am not a bit uneasy for the young gentleman's sake, what following in your footsteps might mean for him. Perhaps I am reminding you of his youth deliberately. But I also cannot deny that things seem a great deal lighter when he is here, or that you, for that matter, seem almost…happy." He smiled, and Bruce found himself returning it. "And I confess to having grown rather fond of him."

"It's hard not to," Bruce replied.

"Indeed. Now, if I may suggest some lunch, sir?"

~~~

Dick carefully parked his bike in the corner of the cave set aside for it. The motorcycle had been one of the few indulgences he allowed Bruce to purchase for him. He probably could have afforded one himself, but he was eying his fall-back fund with caution at the moment, knowing he wouldn't be able to refresh it in the usual way.

He knew that Bruce's money was something he was going to have to come to terms with sooner or later, especially if he intended to pursue the plans he'd discussed with Selina earlier. And he was already fairly comfortable with the idea that Bruce was going to have to supply the equipment for their nightly activities. The rest he'd just have to adjust to. Thus far, Bruce hadn't used the money to assert control over him, and if he did, well, Dick would deal with it. Probably loudly and messily, but he'd deal with it.

Bruce was already in the cave, still in his work clothes, but setting out the bat-suit in preparation for the night.

"Did she get off okay?" he asked as Dick approached.

"Yeah. She'll probably stay in Paris for a few months. Plenty of havoc to wreak there." He smiled at Bruce's obvious restraint. "Anyway, it was nice to spend a few days with her. We had a number of very long talks. She says sorry about the punch, by the way."

Bruce looked at him. "No, she didn't," he said without rancor, then cleared his throat. "Did you talk about anything in particular?" His attempt to sound casual was almost painful.

"A few things. The future, for one. Some plans I have. Besides…" he gestured at Batman's costume, "this, I mean."

That got Bruce's full attention. He turned and leaned back against the table, crossing his arms. "Plans?"

"Well, yeah. Nothing too specific, but there's talk that Gotham University might be reopened on a limited basis in the fall, so, I thought I might go back to school. Part-time for now, but when they get fully rebuilt, maybe more."

"I…see." Bruce's voice took on that flat quality it so often did when he was upset, and Dick sighed.

"Look, I'm staying here to work with you, to _be_ with you, but that can't be all I am. At least when I was with Selina, I had things in my life that weren't about her. I can't _not_ have that with you."

Bruce's face softened almost imperceptibly, and he nodded. Dick took it as the rather large sign he knew it to be.

"Besides," he continued, "what you do, what _we_ do, it's important, but it's not enough. Not to bring up a sore subject, but… I was grateful you caught the guy who killed my parents, but it didn't really help my situation all that much, you know? And I think it's great," he rushed ahead over the objection he knew was coming, "that you put all that money towards helping people, but, well, you need people who know what to do with it."

Bruce nodded again, this time a little more definitely. "There is that." His brow furrowed in thought. "Some new condominiums are going up near the university. We should reserve you one now, make sure we make any necessary alterations early." He flushed slightly, looking toward the stairs that once lead to Wayne Manor, and presumably would again soon. "That is…"

Dick shook his head. "We both know we can't be together publicly, at least not right now."

Another ounce of tension eased out of Bruce's shoulders. "It's not that I'm ashamed. Actually," he added wryly, "it would probably help my cover if the newspapers shouted that Bruce Wayne was gay."

"But if he shows up with a new boy toy right around the time that Batman starts working with a partner…" Dick supplied with his own self-deprecating smile.

"Exactly. Eventually, people will get used to the one, and then we can think about the other."

Dick grinned. "And in the meantime, I'm sure we can find plenty of time for…meetings."

Bruce let his arms drop from their defensive fold, and raised one a few inches before awkwardly letting it drop. Dick smiled and closed the foot or so between them. Bruce sighed almost in relief and ran a hand up Dick's arm to rest on his neck. It was something Dick had gotten very good at recognizing the last few months, because for all the passion he could unleash, Bruce was oddly shy about casual touch. He wanted it so badly, but needed some small initiative from Dick before he permitted himself even something as simple as his hand resting on Dick's neck, thumb slowly stroking his throat.

"There's something I need to tell you. Something I want to say," Bruce said. He swallowed, and looked down at the floor, then back up at Dick, the struggle evident on his face. "I need you to know…" He looked away again.

Dick covered Bruce's hand with his own, waiting until Bruce was looking at him again. "Yeah. I know." He hadn't said it yet himself, hadn't let himself use the word for fear of breaking their fragile understanding. But if Bruce was standing before him, without the mask between them, maybe it wasn't so fragile after all. "Me, too."

It would have to be said eventually. They would both need to say it, and need to hear it. But there was time.

Bruce nodded, then leaned forward and kissed him, hard and hungry, and for the next few minutes, Dick felt everything Bruce wasn't saying.

When Bruce finally pulled back and said, "We should get ready," Dick almost resented how collected he sounded.

"Oh, so not fair doing that, and then ask me to get into a form-fitting costume," Dick said, and almost tripped when Bruce just smiled and winked at him.

Working on the man's sense of humor had _really_ been a mistake .

Leaving Bruce to change, Dick went to the back of the cave. Alfred had said it would be ready today.

Sure enough, stacked neatly in the cabinet Dick had claimed as his temporary wardrobe were books and gloves and a tidy pile of clothing with a note on top.

 _Mr. Grayson_ , the note said, and Dick rolled his eyes a bit. He was just going to have to get used to that, he supposed, as Alfred had resisted all requests that he use Dick's first name. _I do hope this meets your requirements._ Dick touched the fabric lightly, then set about changing.

Five minutes later, he stood in front of the mirror, needlessly adjusting the sleeves for the fourth time, brushing nonexistent lint off his shoulder. Alfred had done an amazing job. The colors were more muted: the green that took up most of the body was almost black; the red that covered his shoulders and moved down his arms in stylized wings was more blood than apple; the yellow was only there in the insignia. But they were still his family's colors, still the colors he'd learned to fly in.

He felt as much as heard Batman's presence behind him, just before a gloved hand grasped his right shoulder, then slid down to the stylized "R" on his chest.

"Should I ask?"

Dick took a deep breath. "Robin," he said. "Call me Robin."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Illustration for Lucy's Hanging Work Series](https://archiveofourown.org/works/264088) by [ratcreature](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratcreature/pseuds/ratcreature)




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